


Vast

by deliriouslyshipping



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-08 11:34:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14693370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deliriouslyshipping/pseuds/deliriouslyshipping
Summary: Fa-rules over DestinyGauna-Leads the spirits of the deceased and rules over disruption, harassment, death





	1. Teleport

T’Challa carries the dead weight of his cousin’s body. He manages to avoid all of Wakanda when he walks back into the palace. He lays Erik the backup lab on the table. It runs through its diagnostics. He is savable-T’Challa exhales as if he was holding in his breath. The process begins to fix his cousin and T’Challa runs out to confront the broken country, torn.

 

_What kind of King saves the enemy before the country in distress?_

 

The thought runs through his head, but it doesn’t sound like his inner voice, his conscience. It sounds more like the recovering, internally broken male on the table.

 

_Dumbass, I know you hear me_

 

T’Challa snaps around, claws out to attack, but it is not N’Jadaka. But it is. That is definitely cousin, but in a very.. not alive version.

 

_Oh now you can see me?_

 

The King turns and walks back to the ruins, ignoring his..cousin. Ghost? Whatever it is. Despite the decision he made alone to save N’Jadaka, he has a country with far more importance than what is following him.

 

N’Jadaka does not speak anymore, as if he can hear his thoughts. He remains quiet until after the UN, in his hotel room,  where he promptly calls him a “ _fucking idiot,_ ”  __in reference to the whole Outreach program

 

“That is a rude thing to say,” and T’Challa feels stupid for even replying to the.. something. He has not had time to study up on what is going on. Why he can see and hear N’Jadaka, when he is obviously somewhere hidden off from everyone.

 

N’jadaka smiles at him in the hotel room. The temperature drops and T’Challa shivers in the sudden loss of heat.

 

_“Oh now you can recognize a nigga?”_

 

“Mind your language, N’Jadaka,” T’Challa scolds naturally.

 

 _“What are you gonna do about it? Stab me in the heart again? I figure it might be hard to do if I’m still kinda dead.”_ Ouch _._

 

_“Imma let you know right now. I don’t think I’ll ever want to stop killing you. I want to wrap my hands around your throat until you can’t breathe, choking under my fingers. I want to disfigure your body with my favorite knife, then use the blade covered in your blood to place my new scar. I even saved a place right in the middle of my chest for you. Looks like you placed a scar there anyway_

_“But this ghost shit is kind of lonely, and you’re the only one who can see me apparently, so if I can’t kill you, I might as well annoy the hell out of you. Might even get you to kill yourself. Hmm, what an interesting thing that would be.”_

Then Erik disappears to who knows where and why. T’Challa feels his body shake and he breathes deeply. He does not get sleep that night, despite the fat that his cousin does not return to him that day.

Since then, Erik has not stopped talking.

 

-

 

T’Challa salutes the Dora Milaje on his exit from the lab. The increasing amount of work placed on his mantle since his opening of Wakanda has caused him vast amounts of stress. In all of this though, nothing has stressed him more than-

_“Sup, cuz?”_

T’Challa turns sharply in the hallway, hissing under his breath. The female warriors turn to him, expecting, but T’Challa shakes his head and continues walking, much to the Dora’s confusion. The first ability N’Jadaka received is popping in and out of sight, the next is crawling into T’Challa’s head and placing unnecessary thoughts every now and then. Bast only knows why she gave him powers. It only makes matters worse for him.

  
_“Still ain’t gonna tell nobody that you got your dead cousin following you around?”_

 

“You are not dead. Your spirit is alive and your body is still in perfect condition; you can return to it when you like,” T’Challa replies under his breath, venturing to his office with his hands behinds his back. N’Jadaka follows behind and apparently Bast decided N’Jadaka did not have to die yet and that T’Challa can be tortured for as long as his cousin so chooses.

 

_“I’m kind of feeling this undead kind of thing. Who knew that you liked to sing in the shower?”_

 

“I would prefer it if you do not follow me everywhere, especially in the only time I have for myself.” T’Challa opens the door to the office and his technology pulls up multiple screens of information. Erik sits on the desk, uncaring.

 

_“And I would prefer to be dead, but look where we are. Did you even tell Shuri that you have my body hidden somewhere?”_

 

“Do not even bring that up! The time will come, I suppose.” N’Jadaka scoffs and T’Challa tries to ignore him. T’Challa wonders if he can touch him, more specifically punch him in his throat. Most likely not: the previous Bast summoned spirits have not been able to produce true contact. At the same time, they were never able to talk either.

 

_“You’re full of shit.”_

 

“Do you have anywhere else to be? Like your body in the hidden quarters.”

 

_“Don’t you think I haven’t tried crawling back in there? You would’ve been dead if I could. Guess your gods don’t want me alive.”_

 

“They obviously want you alive or else you would’ve been with your ancestors in the ocean.” The Panther rolls his eyes and pulls up documents on the screens.

 

 _“You gonna quote me on that? I was having a sentimental moment, man. And you obviously wanted me alive.”_ T’Challa hums, scrolling through messages from the Avengers. He should really disconnect from their group chat. Groot is quite hard to understand, but Thor seems to understand, even in text messages. Everyone else simply fights constantly (more of Iron Man and Spiderman, Iron Man and Captain America, Rocket and everyone, etc.) and he has no part of their silly quarrels.

 

_“The fuck is the tree dude saying?”_

 

“I do not know his language. You would have to ask Thor.” He hears his cousin make a noise of thought then his face focuses briefly. Then he is gone, across the room in another seat.

 

_“Holy shit, I can teleport.”_

 

“That is nice,” T’Challa sarcastically replies, “now teleport away from me.”

 

_“Nakia is looking quite nice, just so you know. Saw her in a bathing suit a couple days ago. Damn. You telling me you ain’t hit that ever?”_

 

“How dare you sexualize her like that! You bring shame,” but his cousin only shrugs.

 

 _"I have been known for that. Nothing new? Would you like to see?"_ T'Challa opens his mouth because, no, he would not, but then he sees Nakia in all of her beauty. She is gorgeous in her loved color, forest green compliments her skin well... T'Challa shakes his head. 

 

"Stop that! I do not wish to see her." 

 

_"Aww did she leave you at the alter again?"_

 

"I am quite tired of your mouth, N'Jadaka." T'Challa is annoyed with his presence and there is no denying that. He would give anything to have this man go away.

 

" _And I am quite tired of you saying my birth name. I would kill you if I could."_

 

"The feeling is mutual." Erik laughs and teleports back to the desk, leaning over him as if he could do something. 

 

" _Lies. You saved me, my body at least. I'm laying comfortably in the next room hidden from Wakanda like I'm some secret. How good is a King who cannot even tell the truth to his country?"_ He blows air to his face, but is does not feel like air. It feels like the snow from the Jabari tribe-freezing and raising goosebumps along his skin. N'Jadaka is fully aware of what he can and cannot do, and what exact affect that it has on T'Challa. He uses it to his advantage constantly, knowing the Panther is completely helpless against a spirit. 

"Are you done yet? I have things to do, you must know. King things, you would understand." 

 

_"You got some mouth on you, T. Wonder what else you could do with that."_

  
"What does that mean?" Erik only smirks like he can only know. Then he is gone, leaving T'Challa there to his lonesome. Finally. 

The King adjusts himself in his seat and reads through the truly important messages he did not want his cousin viewing. N'Jadaka will be back and T'Challa cannot force himself to say that he dreads it because he honestly doesn't. 

He would rather have to deal with his beyond irritating cousin than live with the guilt of killing him in the way that he did. 


	2. Possession

Training was usually never this hard. At the same time, N'Jadaka had never been some spirit out to get him one way or another (at this point, whether it be that T'Challa dies or suffers for eternity, both feel some like some victory for his cousin). The King pants, hot, but the overwhelming cool along his back has him shivering in the hot Wakandan sun. Erik is right behind him, as usual, criticizing his every move. 

 

_"That is horrible form."_

_"I bet you I could still kick your ass, herb or not."_

Honestly, he would love it if anyone else could see N'Jadaka, but he doubts that would change the amount of time the ghost spends with him. Erik is trained on him, trained to ruin Wakanda by first deleting the patriarch in the position of the nation's leader. Otherwise known as T'Challa Udaku himself. Despite the comments, T'Challa continues to fight hard, unrelenting, unwilling to give up. That is what saved him in the first place and he does not doubt that it may save him again in the future. Persistence is the one thing T'Chaka had taught him without secondary meaning, secrets locked behind sealed lips and pain. 

 

In the midst of thinking of his father, he felt weak, and it is almost as if he is drawing Erik closer to him, though he is as close as a human could be. The pull is closer and T'Challa realizes that it is not drawing N'Jadaka closer, but it is pulling him  _in._ The host does not feel cold with the seeping of N'Jadaka in his bones; he feels hot, empowered all over. In fact, he can only feel the flex of the muscles, the strength of his cousin in him. It is nearly as if he is Erik or it is that Erik is him. T'Challa shakes his head furiously, as if breaking a trance, and manages to dodge the attack given to him by the opponent. 

 

_"What the fuck did you just do?"_

 

 

And T'Challa cannot answer. He does not know the answer himself, but the shock of it all nearly causes him to lose more blood than necessary for this battle. His body heats again in its normal state and N'Jadaka has disappeared. 

 

For some reason, it disturbs him further.

 

-

 

T'Challa sits nicely on the throne, a second home, tuned out to the dramatized cries of the council. Since he had opened the borders, sent aid out to the world, they have yet to trust him. Some declare the foolishness of letting outsiders into Wakanda, others the competence of him as a King. Irritated, he simply gives them a look. In his head, it is better to let them vent their frustrations than-

 

 _"I would've at least killed one of them by now,"_ Erik comments, smirking as he lays across the armrest of the vibranium throne. T'Challa hums and one part of him would agree that he would love to teach the Council that he is not something to be taken lightly. He is the King. 

 

 _"Are you really going to let them do this to you?"_ The Council members have began to argue with each other, so the King answers. 

 

"There is not much I can do, N'Jadaka." His cousin laughs wickedly, amused. 

 

 _"Let me in, I got this."_ T'Challa begins to question what he means by letting him in, but then he feels this pressure, as if something was forcing their way into him. It feels oddly familiar to when he was sparring previously. He has no idea how to let Erik in, but he relaxes, fully tuning out the scene before him. His eyes close, unusual settlement in his body, like two of them are in one. He opens his eyes, but T'Challa feels like he has lost control of himself. Literally. 

 

 _"Enough!"_ It is his voice, but he is not saying it. Erik is. His body stands and he has lost the complete ability to control himself, N'Jadaka's interest and power much stronger than him. The King is nothing but an audience to whatever is about to occur. 

 

 _"Am I not your King?"_ Hushed whispers note the change of behavior, but do not answer his question.  _"Never mind that, I **am** your King. Your role as Council is advise me, not to yell and try to tell me I am not competent at my duties. I don't need your unnecessary words if you are not here to support me as your King. You may all be dismissed." _ N'Jadaka waves his hand, T'Challa's hand. T'Challa looks at the faces of the Council, sees not the fear, but moreof the shock. They gather themselves and leave the room wordlessly. Once they have all left, his body drops to his knees. He feels control return to him again like a wave of power. T'Challa moves his hand to make sure that, yes, this is him. He rises to his feet, smoothes out the wrinkles of his robes. 

 

"Thank you," T'Challa speaks to N'Jadaka, whose brow furrows as if he is confused of something.

 

 _"You wasn't going to man up and do it yourself so,"_ he shrugs as if it was nothing, but is was not nothing. This is the first time Erik had done something without something in return. Or maybe..

 

"Did you see or feel anything?" 

 

 _"It was like I was you or something. Like I knew I was me, I was saying the crap, but I could feel your feelings, see your thoughts. It was.."_ N'Jadaka does not finish, keeping something to himself. T'Challa wants to know what he revealed to his cousin. Wants to know what T'Challa himself will hide but not his body or mind. It troubles his cousin, sees it in the way he shrinks himself away, darts his eyes from everything else but the King himself. 

 

T'Challa gulps hard, unsure of everything at the moment. 

 

 _"You... I'm just gonna go check out the Dora. Gonna need to start studying them if I need to fight them again eventually."_ And Erik is gone. 

 

At night, T'Challa thinks of the event again. Thinks of the heat that encompassed him, as if being burned, then the nothing that followed after. Thinks of way N'Jadaka tried to sound like he would, doesn't even lay a finger on them even though he could've at any point. 

 

" _I would go back to my body if I could."_ If the man could enter his body, why could he not enter his own? Confusion reeks his senses, but the more he thinks of it, the more his body heats up again. The more he thought about it, the more he realized, even more of himself. His body is not heating in response to the situation, but to N'Jadaka, his cousin. 

 

T'Challa looks at the large window, Erik sitting on the ledge, leg dangling lowly. He smiles at him in the dark, every bit with intentions T'Challa just wishes he could figure out. He finds himself entranced in the brown orbs highlighted by the moon. The King's arm raises and settles on his heart, which thumps triumphantly. Without thinking, it lowers down the planes of his stomach, eyes locked onto the ghost in the window sill. Lowers, lowers, then home. 

 

T'Challa groans, low and deep in his throat, the ball of his hand rubbing against his member, heated and ready for him. He does not feel in control again, but he feels more in control than he has in a long time. N'Jadaka bites at his lip, focused yet entertained. The panther grips himself through the material of high nightwear, eyes blown wide in desire. 

 

His inner conscience beats at him, demanding that he stop such intimacy, yet he is trapped. Contently trapped in the way N'Jadaka smirks, knowing what he is doing to him. His body seeks release and he is quite certain is going to give it to him. T'Challa moves the curtain between his cock and the air, feeling the warm breeze that accompanies the new sensations. His hand wraps tightly and he does not fight it, allowing this new level of familiarity overwhelm his senses, him of whole. 

 

T'Challa forbids a moan with the biting of his tongue. He will not give that part to N'Jadaka, who raises an eyebrow at him. He pleasures himself in a way he would never of done, too rough for his complete liking, but this is his company taking over him-yet he allowed it almost wholeheartedly, interest above mind. 

 

His stomach twists, ready for release. As if he knows, with eye contact still secured, he leaves the ledge and stalks toward T'Challa, a jaguar in the night. N'Jadaka circled the bed first, then leans forward, deliberately, and blows on the exposed member. With the added sensation, it topples him over the edge, T'Challa's eyes roll to the back of his head and with the mixture of a cry and a moan, he releases. Black dots encompass his vision and he feels dirty, exposed under the watchful gaze of his cousin. 

 

His breathing returns slowly and control seeps back into his veins again. The King slumps lamely against the sheets, embarrassed to look up. For the sake of pride, he does, and N'Jadaka holds the gaze, eyes dilated in lust. T'Challa moves to sit up, breaking the intimacy, but when he looks back, Erik is gone. 

 

A ghost in the night.

 

T'Challa moves to the shower, washing off the juices of him and the unwanted need to do it again. Have it again.  _Feel_ it again. But the need seeps into his veins, his brain, every part of him that if Erik were to claim his body again, he would assuredly see it. T'Challa himself can see it. He returns to bed, yet sleep is the furthest thing from him. 

 

Though it is not something he performs usually, T'Challa prays that night. 

 

 

 


	3. Telekensis

It burns, this unwanted need for N'Jadaka. The shame that T'Challa carries is bulky, gaining weight with each day that he doesn't see the ghost. The worst of it is yet to arrive: Erik has been missing since the incident occurred. Missing, in retrospect, is the wrong word to use. Erik has actually been missing since the end of the Wakandan Civil War a long time ago (where T'Challa promptly stated that "he is where he is meant to be" to those concerned), but this is so much worse. For once, the King has absolutely no idea where Erik is, what he is doing, or if he will even come back. 

 

War has sparked again. A battle only meant for the Black Panther - his allies in need. T'Challa accepted it easily, seeing the grievance on Captain's face, and was gone before sundown of that day. War is not something the Black Panther is meant to be uneasy about, it is his mere duty to protect and fight, but T'Challa cannot shake off the thought that one day, he will not return to Wakanda. To Shuri. To  _Erik._

 

T'Challa hates that he actually misses the sarcastic and devious man, but it was probably the only relationship that he had where he could relax for even the slightest of moments. Yes, he had to be careful, for there will be a time where Erik can return to his body and attempt to murder him, but in the meantime, he could rest on the fact that N'Jadaka is only there to entertain himself. Almost harmless, except it all blows into T'Challa's character. 

 

N'Jadaka could've controlled him at any point to kill himself and T'Challa would have let him. Not just because he can't fight off that kind of mind control, that possession, but because the amount of guilt that he still feels for N'Jobu, for his beloved son, is enough to do the job. Erik doesn't do that though and allows him perform something much worse: tearing down at the pride and hidden secrets that he has. He liked it and he hates himself for it too, but so did Erik. T'Challa is led to believe that N'Jadaka is far more disgusted with himself than he could ever be. Erik is not honest with anything in his life, he never had to be, and when the time came that something true revealed, he would rather rip the blade from his heart or run away. 

 

T'Challa scoffs to himself as the air ship lands. Captain greets him along with the rest of the Avengers. At this point, despite the sudden appearance of the Black Panther, he has somehow edged his way into the title of the Avengers. Steve Barnes, Bucky, hugs him, smiling. It has been some time since he has seen the man. 

 

In the rightness of this, being able to fight for something just, he feels off. And he knows exactly what it is.

 

-

 

_What the hell are these things?_

 

T'Challa tosses another one off of him, but another comes to attack just as he does so. His claws penetrate the torso, reaching for anything vital. The creature sags, dead, and the panther throws him another following creature. Of course, he has to deal with the out-of-the-world beasts. Multiple of them leap onto him, weighing him down. They bite at him and the kinetic energy builds. Just as he was about to blast them, they are gone. He stands quickly, confused. 

 

_N'Jadaka_

 

He smiles at him and flicks his hand once. He thought it was a wave, but the creature flips over him and splits in half midair. Showoff. 

 

"N'Jadaka, I.." words leave him. He froze. Erik shrugs as if he knows what he is trying to say. 

 

 _"You looked like you was in a bit of trouble."_ T'Challa lowers his head, as if thanking. He turns and begins to find another thing to fight. T'Challa turns and catches that look in his eye. Erik looks around, absorbing the fight around him, and it was as if he wishes he could be there. He  _is_ here. 

 

"Are you coming or not, Erik?" His cousin looks at him expressionless, then a hint of a smile plays on his lips. In a millionth of a second, T'Challa is somewhere else and the creatures turn around to see him. T'Challa gulps. 

 

 _"They're all over here,"_ Erik comments as they all run towards him. In his head, he curses, damning his cousin for playing such a joke, but the way Erik laughs from behind him, the damning can wait. 

 

"You are horrible," T'Challa reminds him as he charges.

 

Every now and then, Erik kills one for him. Other times, he wipes the whole population of them because the things just keep reappearing. It feels like hours of nonstop fighting before the creatures finally stop coming. T'Challa assumes they finally killed whoever is causing this and he can breathe so much easier. Not only can he stop fighting, but his cousin is right there next to him, waiting. 

 

"You've grown stronger," T'Challa decides to walk all of the way back to the rest of the Avengers. He wants more time with N'Jadaka, who gives him a knowing look. 

 

 _"Yeah, I gained a couple of things. Watch,"_ T'Challa elevates from the ground, then he is right outside of the Wakanda's borders again. 

 

"Wh-wha-"

 

 _"I could go wherever I want now. Could take anyone with me, too."_ There is a wrongness in the way Erik says it. T'Challa looks around to his home, heart heavy. The sun begins to set. 

 

"Where did you go?" Erik looks at him, hurt, and then he is in the dense forest. A waterfall roars to his right and the trees harbor a sign of life. Big leaves and branches are woven together to show a small hut. Erik motions to the hut and T'Challa moves towards the structure. Inside, it is beautiful, up on the list of things that T'Challa has seen. Erik coughs from behind him. 

 

 _"This is deep in one of your forests. I wanted time by myself to think. I built it with my mind, of course, I can't touch any of the shit."_ A chastisement lies on his tongue, but he can't do it. He has never seen Erik so vulnerable in a long time. 

 

 _"I am sorry for.. that thing I did. I didn't have to force you to do that."_ Erik scratches the back of his neck, embarrassed. 

 

"But you did," T'Challa replies, stepping up to him, "but it is okay. You are bored." 

 

 _"I am not bored,"_ N'Jadaka corrects, _"I am tired of this. I can have all of the power in the world, but it will not make me happy. I don't want this. I learned I am either dead or alive but now I am neither. I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't even feel! You have no idea what that is like!"_ If N'Jadaka was alive, he might cry, but he is not. His facial expressions shift in coordinance to his emotions, but nothing beyond that. Wind picks up outside, the howling partnered with the crashing of water. T'Challa feels guilty once again. 

 

"I am sorry," and a list of things to say after that runs through his mind, but he leaves it at that. T'Challa leans his head forward and N'Jadaka mirrors the action, their foreheads in "contact" with one another. In such, he can feel the anger running though Erik's veins, though he does not pull away from the intimacy. 

 

 _"You didn't have to fucking do this to me. I didn't want to live, it was my choice. I should fucking kill you for doing this to me, it is worse than anything your father could have ever done."_ T'Challa flies across the forest, breaking through trees until he crashes. He lets out a pained groan, but then he is against the tree. A pressure settles hard against his throat. He chokes on air although there is nothing physically there to suffocate him. Erik looks at him, rage evident on his expression, teeth grinding and eyes wild. T'Challa speaks through the strangulation.

 

"You deserve the chance to live."

 

 _"That was not your choice!"_ Black wraps around his vision, greeting him like it was the last time. T'Challa lets his body stop struggling, welcoming the perceived end, refusing to halt their eye contact. 

 

"I know, N'J- " The pressure tightens, neck bones grinding at the name. "I am sorry." He grits out, closing his eyes to let the job finish. If he does by the hand of his cousin, at least he deserved it. Senses are completely cut off, unable to feel anything. 

 

T'Challa's body drops and air rushes back into his system. His eyes reopen and he is no longer in the forest. He is back at the lobby of the building he was meant to enter a while ago. Unsteady, he stands. It is blatantly obvious that Erik has disappeared again. 

 

Erik may never come back, but now T'Challa can understand. Understand that when someone allows or forces you to live even if you don't want to- it is.. words cannot describe. T'Challa rubs at his neck as he walks up the stairs with intention to meet with the Avengers. They will look at his neck and assume something different had happened. And that is okay. 

 

The King breathes in deeply, sparks of pain in the process. 

 

Erik doesn't leave his mind for one second. His cousin could do whatever he wanted to him and T'Challa would let him. 

 

Because the truth is, in some wrong and shameful way, T'Challa loves N'Jadaka. How unusual is that..


	4. Strength

The longer than N'Jadaka stayed away, the harder it had become for the King to do things he was already accustomed. Meetings were harder to focus towards, not when there was not another presence behind him, mocking and snickering at various things of the encounters. T'Challa sighed, fingers shaking around the engraved ring. Somewhere, beyond T'Challa's obvious knowledge of the world or Wakanda, is his cousin, angry and obviously hurt, and what can he do?

 

Absolutely nothing. Not unless N'Jadaka returns. 

 

"My King," Nakia saunters in his office pleasantly, radiating strength and beauty. T'Challa used to love that about her - the undeniable power in her personality. Now he only envies it, wishing he did not feel like the mantle placed upon him can become too much at times. The King smiles nonetheless, adjusting himself to place his undivided attention on the astounding woman. 

 

"Nakia, so lovely to have you back." She finds herself on the couch, the very one that N'Jadaka learned to teleport on. T'Challa tries not to think of that. 

 

"Only for now. The program is doing very well and I thought I should pay my old friend a visit." Their kiss following the downfall of N'Jadaka's reign did not convince her to stay, that their love was worth abandoning the true call of both of them. T'Challa knew this, expected this, but enjoyed it. Enjoyed her. If T'Challa learned anything about love, it changes always and it may cause pain, but he cannot fight the matters of the heart. Nakia did not love him the way that he wanted to love her. That is life. 

 

"How thoughtful of you," T'Challa winces and hopes it is not too noticeable, "but I am fine." 

 

"You can tell me that all you want to, but there is always something. I know you." T'Challa sighs, shoulder slacking, and gives in. If anyone could understand a sliver of what he was feeling, it would be his prior love. Understanding is another amazing gift along her lengthened list of qualities of her. 

 

"N'Jadaka," his throat catches and the name chokes on his vocal cords, "he is.. alive." 

 

Nakia stands, eyes glinting in a sudden anger.

 

"What do you mean? Where is he?" 

 

"He is a spirit. His body is in some sort of coma. I..I saved his body, but he became some ghost. He acquires powers over time, he is blessed with them." Nakia takes the information in slowly, body relaxing. Her eyes stray away from T'Challa in sudden disapproval of his actions, but then she is back in the conversation, hungry for more information, which T'Challa is too willing to give at this point. 

 

"He was very upset with me almost a week ago. He," T'Challa lowers the collar of his robe, revealing the gory bruise around his neck, "tried to release his anger, but he did not follow through. He has been missing since." The feeling returns, the images of N'Jadaka's face, enraged, and he can almost hear the crack of his neck again. 

 

"So.. you save the man who tried to kill you, who becomes some blessed spirit, then he tries to kill you again and disappears?" T'Challa nods. Nakia stays silent, standing up from her seat. She walks up to the window overlooking Wakanda in all of its grace, the King standing to her side.

 

"What I don't understand is why couldn't you kill him? Why could he not finish killing you? You could've left him to die."

 

"He is of my blood. N'Jadaka deserved more than what we had given him. So much better."  T'Challa could not find it in him to admit that he has sickeningly fallen in love with the forgotten prince or is in the process of doing so. He could not say that he wishes he could find Erik and say that he has these unusual feelings - he wishes he could already see the disgusted face on the man's face so he can feel guilty and move on. 

 

"There is more to it, isn't there?"

 

"There always is, Nakia," T'Challa smiles at the window instead of her, "but those are matters of the heart." A sort of agreement is between them, that this is enough for both of them to be okay with. T'Challa trusts her with the secrets he told and she trusts that he has said enough to release some tension in his mind. That is their love. Nakia reaches for his hand and she holds it for comfort. His heart no longer races or his body inclines to wanting her more. Now it is warmth, the kind that he needs to get through the loss of everything - their natural customs, the T'Challa he once was before he took this mantle, N'Jadaka. 

 

Nakia releases his hand and moves to the door. T'Challa does not move, eyes glued to his landscape. She stops at the door. 

 

"He is good for you, T'Challa. I hope it works out in the end." And she is gone. T'Challa doesn't move, doesn't think that much else because

 

yeah, he does too. 

 

-

 

Another week passes. A month. And another. And another. The time passes.

 

The feel of ice cold breeze or harsh words have become too distant for T'Challa to completely remember, but he longs for it. It has become easier with time. Things did not have to revolve around the assumed dead cousin of his. His role as King of Wakanda, the Black Panther, was not because of N'Jadaka. 

 

But in some distant and indirect way, it is. 

 

To cope with the ultimate loss of the ghost (again), he became bolder, speaking as if Erik had possessed his body once more and spoke through him. He pushed for the Outreach Program to thrive, rebuilding the most poverty-raided parts of the world into sufficiency. Shuri spent much time out with educating youth into technology, finding new inventions for T'Challa try as she continues around the world. Nakia and him have not spoken since the previous event. In some unsettling way, it does not rattle him as much with the complete loss of a majority of people he loves. Only one. 

 

Whether it be _Fa_ or _Gauna_ or whichever god or goddess that placed N'Jadaka outside of his body, into and of the world, they cannot help this ache inside of his chest. Erik is so undeniably strong that it has become too much for either of them to handle. By now, the world could've been in ruins and N'Jadaka could have completed his mission that he had set out before a blade entered his heart. He could've done so much by now, no denial that blessings are somehow raining upon the man whether he was worthy or not. No rhyme or reason was placed upon pertaining to why this happened to N'Jadaka. He  _should_ be dead. Yet he isn't; he is much worse: missing. 

 

Despite being able to teleport, move things with his mind, and whatever else he was give, T'Challa gained a power of his own. No one blessed the King with this or altered his whole reality to acquire. 

 

His gift is inner strength. He cannot change the past or recreate the future in someway, but he has strength. Strength from losing a father, to realizing his father's wrongs, to losing N'Jadaka, to reviving N'Jadaka, to lose him all over again whilst doing everything else that is expected of him. T'Challa did not have to be jealous of Nakia for her strength when he was gaining his own version of it. After all of this, he knew he could survive. The King survive without the first person he ever loved, or even the second, his father, the complete support of the council, the complete and utter loss of himself. 

 

T'Challa works late. His eyes burn from the constant staring between papers and holographic screens. Time is beyond forgotten, only the lighting of moon indicating that it is suggested to acquire some rest. The King yawns as he organizes his papers for the next day. He ventures to his room, saluting his guards on his way in, then settles into more comfortable clothing for sleep. As soon as his head hits the smooth sheets, sleep comforts him, luring him in sweetly. 

 

A cool breeze reaches the back of his neck and travels over the entire expanse of his body. T'Challa ignores it, thinking it more of the open window, and allows the dark of his eyelids to become the sole focus. Exhaustion weighs too heavy on his body, too much to react when he hears a voice in the night. 

 

_"Sleep well, Kitten."_

 

T'Challa is asleep before the sentence finishes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fa-rules over Destiny  
> Gauna-Leads the spirits of the deceased and rules over disruption, harassment, death


	5. Touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me five chapters to get to this part.

Erik glances at the time, then back at T'Challa's sleeping body. In a few minutes, the man would wake and see that, yes, he is here. Again. He sighs, bored. Time has become.. irrelevant to him. Quite honestly, time does not even matter anymore; he died the minute that he ripped the blade from his body. Yet he is here, staring at T'Challa as the time counts up to seven in the morning. He is not alive, but not dead, just some painful medium. 

 

The alarm rings on the Kimoyo beads and T'Challa stirs in his sleep. Last night, the man looked just as dead as Erik feels, like he has done nothing but work his ass off. N'Jadaka cannot help but wonder if he can be the cause of his overcompensation. When the King rises, his body shudders and he is looking right at him. A range of emotions display over his face and Erik is unable to choose just one. 

 

"N'Jadaka," T'Challa breathes out, like it was an exhale that he has been holding in. The King twitches as if he is going to move towards him, but then remembers and stops. Erik bites his lip.

 

 _"Hey, cuz."_ The air between them is cool. A breath of fresh air. Erik counts the seconds: one, two, three.. ten, eleven, and finally T'Challa smiles. He activates his beads and checks his schedule for him to see. No other encounter happens than that. What is he expected to say? Hey, sorry I disappeared for almost half of a year to your dire lonesome? Fuck that. N'Jadaka blinks and he is across the room, looking outside of the window, the same window where he overtook T'Challa's body. Wakanda truly was a beauty. He almost wanted to keep all of the sights for himself. 

 

"I, um, you came back." Erik chuckles, turning to face his cousin. T'Challa looks awkward on his bed, almost shy. 

 

 _"Yeah,"_ and for him, right now, there is nothing else to say. 

 

"I have to go, but will you be back later?" T'Challa shakes his head, as if condemning himself, then begins again. "Will you come back after 9? I would like to talk to you."

 

_"I plan of kind of following you around all day, so I guess so. There is nothing else to do in Wakanda."_

 

"There is plenty to do in Wakanda," T'Challa protests, defensive. Erik shrugs. 

 

"Not when you can't touch a damn thing." N'Jadaka bites his tongue. There is nothing more he can say that can't be something that can wait. T'Challa seems to understand that with a nod of his head, moving to prepare for his day. Erik chooses not to pop up in the bathroom to scare the man (although it would have been funny). When he comes out, his posture is different, more confident, and Erik raises his eyebrows at the way he purposely ignores him. 

 

_So we're back to that shit?_

 

 

Erik grins and teleports to his side, walking in pace with the King, who gives him a side glance and nothing more. A unspoken agreement between them rests that there was going to be no talking. This is something that had to wait, behind closed doors. Erik might have missed being here, at T'Challa's side, but you'll catch him dead before he even considers admitting it. They walk in silence to the through the quite tiresome day. No wonder why he is so damn tired. 

 

-

 

9 comes around. They do not talk on their way back to the Royal bedrooms and Erik can almost feel the bile in his throat, the rush of blood in his veins. He is so close, but not close enough. T'Challa, for the first time since that morning, looks at him, eyes shining with some emotion N'Jadaka is not sure he wants to define. They walk into the room and the tension grows in the void of words spoken, even after T'Challa changes into his nightwear. 

 

_"So-"_

 

"Why did you come back, N'Jadaka?" Shit. He wasn't expecting such a fast response. Erik coughs, a rouse, before he answers. 

 

 _"I had to."_ The easy answer. T'Challa's expression shifts more into annoyance, even anger. 

 

"Had to? What is that supposed to mean?" Erik just stares, unable to elaborate. He can't or it will never work. 

 

"I do not understand. You nearly kill me and disappear for months. And when you come back, which I didn't even think you was going to ever come back, you cannot tell me the reason why." T'Challa's voice raises to a near yell. Erik's hand twitches, begging for contact. 

 

_"Well do you want me to go? Because I'll fucking do it!"_

 

"No. You do not have to go.." T'Challa settles, appearing more calm. The amount of vulnerability on the King's face has Erik's hidden guilt resurfacing, and he groans. 

 

 _"When I left, I went to find some way to either kill me for good or return to my body. I went around the world, looking for any answer,"_ T'Challa sits on his bed, eyes wide in interest, "and I found it. I spent the rest of the time just exploring the world. I killed a couple of people but only those who like truly deserved it. Rapists and murderers and shit. I thought I could spend time actually trying to enjoy it instead of burn it down." Erik looks up to see his cousin is only smiling appreciatively at him. Fucking sap. 

 

"So you found a way to fix this? What is it?" 

 

 _"Don't worry about it. It can't be done."_ Erik moves up to the ledge, seeking some kind of exit. He could leave again at any point in time, but he feels glued to being here. He knows exactly why and he can't handle it. 

 

"Maybe it can, just tell me-" 

 

_"No, forget about it."_

 

"Tell me what it is, N'Jadaka, or-"

 

 _"Or what? You'll kill me again. Jokes on you buddy, I can't come back to life!"_ T'Challa jolts like he had been shocked. Erik whips around, facing the window so he didn't have to see the face of his cousin, who has too much of a heart. 

 

"You can't come back?" His voice is small, naive. 

 

 _"Listen, this is going to sound all fucked up, but it's the truth. When you saved me, you fucked up the whole system. I was supposed to die. I became a spirit or ghost or whatever I am because you needed me, your inner conscience needed me. All of the powers I got came from you. You was the only thing keeping me alive, physically and spiritually. All of the good shit I got was because I wanted it, but I can't get any more of them. The rest come from what you want for me. Or at least that's what the crazy witch lady said."_  

 

T'Challa does not speak, the rise and fall of his chest the only movement presented. N'Jadaka almost feels hurt, does feel hurt, for him. He bets that T'Challa had been hoping that one day he could save him. How sad. 

 

"So how do I.. release you?" T'Challa chokes on the word and his eyes brink tears. 

 

 _"You have to kill me the same way you did the first time."_ N'Jadaka whispers it like a curse. It was the last push for the tears to flow freely. T'Challa sobs, repeating  _no_ like a mantra. He can't do it again. He can't, he can't, he won't. N'Jadaka , for the first time, wishes he was alive again, just to give something for his cousin to cry on. All of this death, this pressure, and he had to place it on his cousin again, the only person he has grown soft for. 

 

"I won't do it!" T'Challa screams, burying his head in his hands, water from his tears flowing down his arms. 

 

 _"I won't ask you to."_ Erik moves to be beside of him on the bed. T'Challa's alive body shudders in the cold of his presence. His words are the only comfort he can provide. 

 

"N'Jadaka, I love you. I can't lose someone else I love again." The confession knocks Erik off guard. Completely. 

 

 _"Then I won't go,"_ and it is his way of saying it back. All of this time he has spent with T'Challa, he was doomed to feel some sort of compassion for the guy. Messed up in the head, yes, but completely heartless? Nah, that's not him. It has been so long since he has said the three words, since N'Jobu's limp body laid in his arms, Erik is afraid he has no idea how to resurface those kinds of emotions. Yet these feelings, this need to do something - though he is not sure what - are very familiar to the phrase. He can't handle if he actually develops something for T'Challa. T'Challa eventually settles into merely sniffles. 

 

"Wait," T'Challa says suddenly, and then he is staring hard at him. Warmth creeps, beginning at the finger tips. N'Jadaka stands up, appalled. 

 

 _"The fuck are you doing,"_ and then he can  _feel._ The temperature of the room, the breeze from the window, still open from T'Challa's consistent hope for Erik to come back. 

 

"You said the rest of your powers are up to me," T'Challa stands up and reaches for his hand, "I wanted you to be able to feel alive." Erik looks for a heartbeat, a pulse, and he has it. T'Challa is touching his hand, a physical body, though it's not his true body. His fake heart beat increases and then he realizes what he wanted to do. 

 

N'Jadaka lifts his hand to the King's face, grazing, and T'Challa leans into the touch with his face still wet from tears. He brings their faces together, planting a hesitant kiss to T'Challa's lips. Erik pulls away, searching the other man's face, but there was no time. T'Challa slots their lips together for a more confident kiss, wrapping his arm around Erik's body. Erik revels in the fact that he can feel; for the first time, and he has absolutely no regrets for letting his first sensation be the feel of T'Challa's lips. 

 

Tongues exploring each other's mouth, their bodies as close as humanly possible, T'Challa kisses Erik like it was the last time he would ever see him again. Or perhaps the first time he has seen Erik in this light. N'Jadaka pulls away suddenly, mouth open. 

 

"What?" T'Challa asks, reaching out, but touches nothing. He panics for a second, but a second is all that it took for Erik to completely disappear with a blink of his eyes. 

 

"Erik!" T'Challa cries out, but only hears laughing. He turns around and the damn man is right there.

 

"God, you should've seen your face!" Erik laughs, hunching over in laughter. T'Challa frowns. 

 

"I hate you." Erik teleports back to his prior position, grabbing at T'Challa's hand. He kisses the back apologetically. 

 

"You just said you loved me, don't go switching up on me now." Erik takes the hand he kissed and intertwines their fingers, the other hand cupping his cheek. 

 

"Hey I'm right here," Erik reminds him, "I can't leave so I am all yours." 

 

"All mine," T'Challa smirks, "I'll take that." 

 

Erik opens his mouth to speak, but his mouth is otherwise occupied with T'Challa licking into it. He can't find it in him to say he minds it one bit. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not the end. Do not mistake this for the end!!


	6. Finale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE FINAL COUNTDOWN *Music*  
> I promised my Tumblr peeps smut so that is what they're going to get soooo

"I love you."

 

"Stop being a fucking sap. It's five in the morning." But it is not like T'Challa could help it really. He wanted to spoil the guy like he did have a second life, a better life than what was provided by a blade plunged into his heart. T'Challa readjusts his head on Erik's chest, exceeding comfort. He runs his hands over the multitude of raised skin in reverence, praising that they exist again.

 

It was worth it: almost dying and dealing with his beyond annoying self, just to hear his heart beat again, the flush of his cheeks from the Wakandan heat. N'Jadaka was beautiful under all of the years of pent up rage and sole focus to destroy the home that intentionally forgot about him. N'Jadaka still did not sleep, despite being somewhat human.

 

It was obviously true that Erik was not saved. He is not human and he has the exact same powers, additionally being able to change his form at will (just like water, as the fool said). T'Challa could want all that he wants that this is Erik with the ability to age and do the exact same things as he can, but it would be a broken dream. N'Jadaka can live just as much as he can, but he will not age, will not die. Again. 

 

"Hey, what's up?" N'Jadaka nudges, gaining T'Challa's attention. He shakes his head, as if shaking off the thought. 

 

"Nothing. I was thinking." 

 

"Well stop thinking. Do something else." Erik suggests with a raised eyebrow. 

 

"Like what?" 

 

"Well I have a perfectly usable dick now-" 

 

"Shut up." N'Jadaka laughs, stupidly wicked, mouth attached to T'Challa's forehead. T'Challa raises and sits up, considering, before crawling onto Erik's lap, seating himself like a throne. 

 

"So your dick is perfectly usable?" T'Challa hums, pretending to be in thought. He checks his Kimoyo beads. "Well there is a good two hours before I have meeting with Council about the progress of the Outreach program." Completely unnecessary to detail, but it takes the entire sentence for Erik to start moving, pressing their lips together hurriedly, though they may have all of the time in the world. T'Challa let him take over, Erik flipping their bodies with little hesitancy, nearly ripping his shirt off in the process. 

 

The King admires the skin, the bumps, fingers running in the divots in between. Erik cracks a smile as he reaches for T'Challa's shirt, pulling it over his head. He is fast to mouth at his collarbone, teeth dragging at the skin. T'Challa moans and tugs harshly at dreads. 

 

"I think you have antagonized me long enough." 

 

"Really," Erik starts, thrusting his hip into a grind, smirking, "I do not think I have antagonized you enough,  _King._ " T'Challa lifts his hips up to match the thrust, groan rumbling from the base of his throat. 

 

"I really hate you sometimes." 

 

"Yeah, we'll see about that in a few minutes." Erik tightens his hands, crescents implanting themselves in the soft skin. He takes his time, removing the bottom layers of T'Challa's clothing with his teeth, gold reflecting from the light from the morning. T'Challa watches, perched upon his elbows, as kisses trail up his legs into his thighs. Erik bites at the muscle of the thigh, a bit too hard, just to hear the noises emitting from the King's mouth. Finally, when he wraps his lips around T'Challa's cock, he gets a tortured gasp. 

 

T'Challa rips at the sheets because the damned man is switching his form to take more in his mouth, the sensations from heat to freezing throwing T'Challa off completely. 

 

"Fuck!" And he never curses, but he has never felt this in his life. T'Challa could come just from this if Erik does not stop switching up. "Please, N'Jadaka." He doesn't know what he is asking for other than Erik to stop. It is too much and not enough at the same time. Erik relents with a final pop, pleased. 

 

"Alright, alright," he reaches over to the nightstand, grabbing at the container in the drawer. T'Challa looks at him, puzzled. "I may have gone through your entire room while you was asleep," Erik admits without shame, opening the container. It spreads around his fingers, and then he is pressing in. T'Challa jolts at the intrusion and Erik mouths at his neck to his chest, providing some sort of reaction before adding another. N'Jadaka swallows the gasp T'Challa was about to release, lazily licking into his mouth. Erik works him open like this, planting open mouthed kisses all over to provide some distraction because it is blatantly obvious that he has either little or no experience. Just as he is about to push his third, T'Challa stops him, desperate. 

 

"No! I want you." Erik removes his fingers, slicking himself up with the excess. He lines himself up to T'Challa's hole, then stops.

 

"It'll hurt more," he warns, concerned. T'Challa rolls his eyes. 

 

"I don't care," and then Erik is pushing himself in. T'Challa bites into his arm, eyes clenched shut. N'Jadaka removes the arm, offering the ball of his hand instead. T'Challa gives him a brief look before attaching his teeth to the bone, biting deeply, baiting the groan out of Erik at the pulsations of pain. But he wants it, wants to feel T'Challa all over and doesn't care how many marks is needed to accomplish it. He finally gets all of the way in, halting until T'Challa can adjust. It doesn't take long and, with the roll of his lover's body, he pulls back to push back home. 

 

T'Challa moans, loud, clenching at the sheets below him. Erik focuses on making sure that they both can feel this, feel each other. He snaps his hips a particular way and has no doubt he has found T'Challa's prostate with the way the man nearly sobs, grinding back against the thrust. Erik searches for that reaction again and achieves it, saving the expressions that the King makes in the process like it was a treasure. T'Challa is a treasure. 

 

The sun rises more, heating their skin further. Beads of sweat appear on T'Challa's skin and Erik chases it with his tongue, lapping at the salty liquid like it was the last ounce of water left. T'Challa's chokes on a moan, back arched, and he comes. The sight is just so goddamn beautiful, mouth open and eyes wide - just like when he stabbed him at Warrior Falls. This feels more like a victory than the tossing of a body over a cliff, than taking the throne. Taking apart T'Challa, breaking him down to the man he is underneath, is much more victory than anything Erik has ever done in his life. Or even in his undead life. His abdomen feels like twisting, balls shrinking, and he brings their mouths together again as he releases. 

 

They breathe each other's air for a minute. Their eyes stay locked the entire time. T'Challa smiles and bites at his lip. A bit too harshly, earning a pained groan from Erik. 

 

"God, you're a pain in the ass."

 

"I believe it is you that is a pain in the ass." T'Challa corrects with a wink, hand patting at his cheek. T'Challa lightly pushes on Erik's chest, rolling off the bed towards the shower. Erik eyes the change in his walk, proud, but then T'Challa is looking at him like he is saying  _are you coming or not,_ then enters the bathroom. He hears the water run. 

 

Yeah, Erik thinks as he gets up, this is the best kind of victory. 

 

-

 

It goes like this. Eventually T'Challa finds it in himself to tell Shuri everything. She actually hits him with multiple things that day for hiding such valuable information from him. Erik reveals himself to her and only her, just because she is cool with him. Shuri may not have completely forgiven the fact he tried to kill her not that long ago, but if she does not want him around, she has not made it too obvious. 

 

To everyone else, N'Jadaka is dead. Gone. Forgotten. And maybe that is the way it should be. Or maybe it shouldn't.

 

T'Challa feels.. guilty. He knows that Erik is happy right there with him and that he is getting better, but the reminder is always there that this isn't what it was supposed to be. Erik, by technicalities, is dead. There is nothing that he can do to save the scarred man, inside and outside. Sometimes it keeps him up, knowing that T'Challa is the only thing keeping him alive. Him and his need to correct his father's wrongs, his ancestors wrongs. 

 

It hits him about five months in that he can't do this forever. Erik will never age, so what will happen when T'Challa suddenly dies or survives so long that he dies of old age? Is he meant to walk Earth forever? No, T'Challa can't do that to him. 

 

"May I ask a question?" Their recent session, although always beyond amazing, had only encouraged the nagging thought that T'Challa tries to lock away, ignore if at all possible. Erik turns to him. 

 

"Lay it on me." T'Challa intertwines their fingers, avoiding eye contact. 

 

"If you could do it yourself, would you stop doing this?" 

 

"Doing what?"

 

"Being a spirit or whatever you are." Erik kisses at each finger and T'Challa hurts at how much he loves the man. More than he ever imagined he could or hoped for. 

 

"Nah, I wouldn't leave you."

 

"I know that," T'Challa squeezes his hand, "but I am withholding you." Erik sits up on the bed using his free hand. 

 

"Where did this come from? What's wrong?" 

 

"I.. when you told me that I am the only thing keeping you alive - as alive as you can be - it made me realize that I was and am being selfish." Erik removes their fingers, face hardening. 

 

"So what are you trying to say?" 

 

"I'm saying," T'Challa swallows, throat suddenly thick, "you don't want this, to live. One day, I'm going to die and I can't take you with me. I can't let you be stuck to Earth because I willed it. I can't stop everything forever." The King bows his head, chest hurting in the amount of emotional pain he feels, and can almost track the frustration emitting off of Erik. 

 

"I fucking stay for you and now you want to leave?" 

 

"No," T'Challa cries, reaching for him. Erik snaps away from the touch as if it burned him. "I want the chance to be with you for as long as I live, but I can't like this." Tears well in both of their eyes. They could run as much as they want to, but this is truth. This will not be forever, not their forever at least. Erik is the first to give in, wrapping his arms around T'Challa, who allows the tears to run freely down his face. They embrace the rest of the night. They do not talk, only coos of comfort until they both exhausted in the mental fight against the final principle. 

 

They have to surrender the idea that N'Jadaka can be saved. The harsh truth is that he already lived his life and he died a long time ago on Panther rock with a blade lunged in his chest. 

 

-

 

T'Challa activates the Kimoyo beads to open the door. He hasn't opened this room since Erik first learned how to teleport. Erik follows him, holding his hands behind his back. Holding the blade behind his back. They wordlessly enter the small room, a table in the middle. N'Jadaka's real body lays, cold and unmoving. The King tries furiously to keep his cool, attaining for any kind of control. 

 

"You did not tell me I was this fucking sexy," Erik says, a smile on his face. It doesn't reach his eyes, but T'Challa appreciates the effort. He smiles briefly, casting his eyes back down on the body. The wound is just the same as when N'Jadaka removed the blade. It has not healed one bit since then, nothing has. 

 

"Hey," Erik starts, placing the knife down on the table. He grabs at T'Challa's face with his hands. "I will never leave you, T'Challa. I made a promise to you and I intend to keep it. I will always be a part of you because you are everything to me." 

 

Tears brink T'Challa's eyes and Erik kisses them away, sucking the salty water away, then kisses his lips. Now this kiss felt like goodbye. T'Challa tries to put all that he can into it, saying everything that he won't allow himself to say. They embrace each other tightly and in this instant, T'Challa considers not doing it or waiting for a later time. But he can't; if he does not do it now, he might never be able to. 

 

"I am ready," T'Challa breathes out, unable to trust his voice to be strong. Erik lets go unwillingly. 

 

"Do you want me to go away?"

 

"No, it would be easier if you are here," T'Challa insists. Erik nods his head once. He reaches for the blade and hands it to T'Challa. The cold vibranium cuts into his emotions and T'Challa feels dizzy. He grips it harder to fight the utmost need to never finish this. 

 

"I love you, N'Jadaka." And N'Jadaka is crying, hands clenching at his sides. Why did it have to be this way? With blurred out eyes, T'Challa lines up the knife. He looks at the man that he loves one last time, who forces one last smile. 

 

"I'll never leave you, T." 

 

It breaks T'Challa. He sobs as he enters the blade back into N'Jadaka's body with the relaxing of his arms. He quickly lets go of the blade, moving back to Erik. 

 

 _"I don't know if I am ready to be without you,"_ he remembers telling Baba in the ancestral plane. Baba did not prepare him for the pain of him leaving or even the pain of watching the man that he loved leaving to. Erik puts his hand on his cheek and kisses his forehead. 

 

"I love you, T'Challa." 

 

T'Challa blinks away the water from his eyes, but when he opens, Erik is gone. Forever. Except this time it isn't some prank or some delusion he swears he is having. 

 

Erik is gone. 

 

T'Challa walks on shaky legs up to his body. He does not leave N'Jadaka until he nothing but numb from the amount of tears and heart ache that he has given himself.

 

-

 

In his suit, he carries the corpse. T'Challa does not look at the raised skin or the hair or anything else that he loves. His heart cannot take it. 

 

He hears the large body of water. The sound of waves crashing against each other. T'Challa breathes deeply, holding the body tighter to his chest, as much as he can. As the sun begins to lower, he steps into the ocean up to his calves. The water splashes against his vibranium suit, but he does not feel it. All he feels is nothing. T'Challa finally looks to N'Jadaka's dead body, the blade still plunged into his nonbeating heart. The amount of love he feels has him wordless, unable to even say anything to the body. 

 

But this isn't Erik. Erik is not a body, he was a soul. A broken, but beautiful soul. He was someone who sought to feel the love that he had lost in the years of his childhood. A soul that T'Challa loved to immensely that it broke him to the core. 

 

T'Challa steps further into the water, so much until his grip was the only thing keeping the water from snatching N'Jadaka away. T'Challa freezes as all of the damage to his heart resurfaces suddenly. He considers going back to Wakanda and using the technology that they have to make sure Erik looks alive forever, but that is not what Erik would have wanted. 

 

_"Bury me in the ocean with ocean with my ancestors that jumped from the ships, because they knew death was better than bondage."_

 

It felt like forever since he heard those words. Felt like forever since he heard Erik's voice. He has to do this. 

 

_"I love you, T'Challa."_

 

T'Challa lets go. He breathes out as he watches N'Jadaka move by the waves and keeps watching until he was out of sight, sunken below the water. T'Challa walks slowly out of the water and sits at the beach. He deactivates the helmet and breathes in the air. A cold, almost chilling breeze hits him, causing him to shiver in the suit. 

 

T'Challa smiles despite the pain. In some way he cannot explain, he feels the aura of the event had a different meaning. This was not a goodbye, just a promise to see N'Jadaka later. Another chilling breeze. T'Challa finds the breeze utterly familiar. He thinks to himself solemnly: 

 

_Yeah, I feel you Erik. You never left._

 

The King stands up and walks away from the beach into a new light. He doesn't need the hope that he will see N'Jadaka again. 

 

He knows he will. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it bad I cried while writing this?


End file.
